


One Touch

by tsunderei



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Confessions, Fluff and Angst, High School, Kageyama Tobio-centric, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 10:18:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14210994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsunderei/pseuds/tsunderei
Summary: His anxiety shows up again one morning, unexpectedly, in the shape of numb hands. Kageyama knows that by the end of the day, this feeling will have either disappeared or escalated.





	One Touch

His hands are numb this morning. Cold and numb.

Kageyama sits on the edge of his bed, his hair a soft mess and his eyes still heavy with sleep. He looks at his open hands, turning them over in the small sliver of morning sun falling in through the curtains. He stares at the pink crooked lines in his palms, the rivers of bluish veins crawling over the back of his hands, the springy tension in his tendons. He balls his hands into fists, stretching the skin tight and white over his knuckles.

Something feels really off today.

He reaches for the soft rubber stress ball lying on his nightstand, the one shaped like a mini-volleyball, and squashes it in his grip. He repeats the motion several times, the strain eventually reaching all the way to his bicep, and he feels weaker with each squeeze of his fingers. In the end he drops the ball, watching quietly as it lands on the floor with a dull thud and rolls into the dusty darkness under his bed.

The numbness doesn’t go away. It’s still there, like a layer of frost right beneath his skin. It’s coming from the inside, purely a result of what can only be high-strung nerves, and it’s not something he can physically rid himself of or mentally wish away. It’s been a while since the last time he felt this way but he knows from past experience that there are only two possible outcomes to this situation: it either disappears or escalates. There’s no in-between.

Kageyama glances at his alarm clock and realizes he’s been sitting here staring at his hands for almost fifteen minutes. At this rate he’ll be late for morning practice. He briefly considers skipping school altogether but Harukou is right around the corner; he can’t afford bailing out now. Besides, he’s never sick and he rarely oversleeps, so he doesn’t exactly have a wealth of excuses to choose from. It’s just not believable that _he,_ of all people, would ever miss practice in the first place. It’ll raise too many suspicious questions to be worth it.

He lifts his arms slightly, tries to relax his tense shoulders, and lets his hands hover limply in the air for a moment. They’re fairly steady, despite the numbness. No obvious trembling, at least not yet. Whether he likes it or not, his condition today will depend entirely on steady hands and a calm heart.

 

**

 

Karasuno isn’t very different from most other Japanese high schools, but it has long since found a special place in Kageyama’s heart. He’s far from a top student and he can’t exactly say he’s got all that many friends (which is fine), but the school holds a welcoming atmosphere he feels comfortable in. He’s a second year now and he’s already managed to create a good handful of precious memories. Most of all he can finally play the volleyball he dreamed of playing in middle school. He’s on a team he feels a sense of unity with, a team that trusts him and that he can rely on in return. He’s shared both losses and victories with them. He’s always looked forward to volleyball practice here – so why is he feeling this way again?

The last time Kageyama showed up to practice carrying this tight knot of dread in his gut was back at Kitagawa Daiichi, after they failed to advance to nationals. After _he_ failed and was rejected by his team. After that he suffered through some days he’d rather just forget.

No one really suspects it because of his general demeanor, but he supposes he’s always been a little anxious by nature, even as a kid. He used to have ‘nervous tendencies’, as his mother would say, a lot of restless bottled-up energy that only got properly redirected once he started playing volleyball in elementary school. He’s probably expected to grow out of it but the older he gets it turns out that it’s easier said than done. It still needs a considerable amount of work.

But what the hell – he’s been doing so well, for so long. There’s no reason for any of this to come rushing back to him now. He ignores the small voice in the back of his head that says it might never have left him in the first place.

He tenses up when he hears the steady approach of running feet coming up behind him, and he knows exactly who it is before he even turns around. One blink of an eye later and Hinata has already zoomed past him, leaving a trail of dust in his wake. Kageyama considers for a split-second not to follow him, just because he’s on edge and scared of triggering anything, but it would be crazy out of character for him to _not_ race Hinata. A Hinata in motion, especially running ahead of him like this, nothing but a bouncy bundle of sunlit life, is a sure fire way to get Kageyama’s legs moving.

He manages to catch up with him before they reach the clubroom but Hinata still beats him to it. It’s barely a victory and any other time Kageyama is sure he would have beat him, but running that short bit required far more strength than usual today. His body isn’t cooperating the way it should and suddenly the thought of volleyball practice towers in front of him like a massive obstacle. For the first time he catches a glimpse of a personal wall where there should be none. He shudders when he realizes it’s his job alone to tear it down.

“Hah! I win!” Hinata exclaims triumphantly. He grins widely, although it quickly fades when he looks up at Kageyama. “Um… What’s wrong with you?”

Kageyama staggers an unsteady step backwards. His vision blacks out for a brief second and he suddenly feels lightheaded, as though his blood pressure has rapidly fallen. A cold sweat erupts on his back and a surge of nausea blooms in his throat, but luckily the moment passes almost just as quickly as it appeared. When the dizziness finally lets go of him all that’s left is the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“You’re really pale,” Hinata remarks, and there’s a trace of genuine worry in the fact that he’s _not_ telling him his face is scary, like he’d normally do. He stares at him, his eyebrows pinched into a frown. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kageyama lies, wiping his forehead on his sleeve.

“You look far from fine.”

“Well, I _feel_ fine so stop pestering me.”

He pushes brusquely past Hinata and enters the clubroom, avoiding his stare for the rest of morning practice.

 

**

 

Apart from some beginner mistakes (that mostly affected Hinata’s poor face), Kageyama actually makes it through practice fairly okay. He gave it far from 100% but he’s fully aware of that. Ennoshita also seemed to notice but he didn’t comment on it so it couldn’t have been that bad. After all Ennoshita is the captain, and a good one at that; if it had been absolutely awful he wouldn’t hesitate to let him know. Kageyama will have to make sure he pulls it together in time for afternoon practice. He hates not having a controlled grasp on how other people view his performance. It makes him paranoid.

His first period is math, which he doesn’t really care much for but it’s one of the few subjects he doesn’t suck completely at. A basic formula isn’t so much up for interpretations as a poem is, and most of the time it’s just about numbers anyway. Numbers aren’t so bad. He also has to actually pay attention and it distracts him from the prickling in his hands. He’ll take any boring school subject over that.

Second period however is self-study and things instantly become a lot more difficult. This class is hardly ever supervised and people tend to chat in groups more than actually working. Kageyama usually takes this opportunity to nap but this time he’s too restless and uneasy. His surroundings are quickly reduced to nothing but a confusing clamor, with too much talk and too much movement, and none of the noises make sense. Everything is just a loud buzz of voices speaking a language that all of a sudden seems completely alien to him.

With his breath stuck high in his chest, Kageyama clenches his fists and stares down at his literature homework without seeing it. The words have absolutely no meaning; they might as well not even exist. He’s pretty sure he memorized a bunch of kanji the last time he picked up this worksheet but that seems like years ago. It’s like he’s never seen these characters before in his life. He’s not even quite sure if they really _are_ kanji. Right now they look like random mashed-up scrawls.

The prickling feeling in his hands has spread a bit further up his arms, settling in clusters of pins and needles on his skin, as if his limbs are slowly falling asleep. Even his face is starting to feel a little numb and a sharp claw of dread and panic clamps down on him. Kageyama would much rather drop dead than freak out like this in the middle of class but then again, having his anxiety build up this way is unbearable. This haunting sense of counting down to something terrible, like there’s a timer in his head ready to go off, is enough to drive anyone insane.

Feeling momentarily disconnected from himself and his own body, Kageyama slams both hands down on his desk in a last-ditch effort to regain some self-control. He hits his desk so hard his pencil jumps in the air and rolls off the edge with a clatter. A shock of pain shoots up his wrists and underarms, the nerves in his palms exploding like firecrackers, but it actually works. He snaps back into himself and reality again, his breath hitching with surprise, before he slowly becomes aware of the entire room falling completely silent around him. He doesn’t have to look up to know that everyone’s staring in his direction.

Kageyama’s face rapidly turns red hot with embarrassment, but he forces himself to remain seated even though every fiber in his body is screaming for him to get out of there. He knows he has to stay, knows that if he runs now he’ll end up locking himself up somewhere, and that’s definitely going to do more harm than good.

Okay.

It’s fine. He’s survived situations like this before.

Kageyama awkwardly clears his throat and tries to act like nothing happened. At best they’ll believe he just dozed off and woke up with a start; at worst they’ll think he’s some kind of weirdo. He assumes it’s the latter, judging by how they’re all whispering among themselves.

 

**

 

His next period is history, followed by English, and those are both safe. Anything with a teacher droning on about something, no matter how dry and boring, is something Kageyama is very much willing to sit through right now.

His classmates are still giving him weird looks but he’s well past the point of caring, too wrapped up in himself to worry about anything else. No one has actually asked him what’s wrong anyway so he feels he doesn’t owe anyone any explanations. Kageyama can’t blame them, though; he’s probably not the world’s most approachable person, going by first impressions alone. In the beginning his trademark scowl was an expression he wasn’t even aware of, nor was it something he could help. To most people he comes across as either a really cool, stoic guy or a guy who’s constantly in an exceptionally foul mood. Funny enough, he’s neither. He isn’t cooler or angrier than the average person. It’s simply just his face, which by now has turned into a very effective shield, for better or for worse.

Kageyama wonders if people would have asked him what the matter was if only he’d been Hinata, and, well – the answer to that is kind of obvious. Hinata manages to draw attention in an efficient and more wholesome way than Kageyama has ever done. His communication skills are off the charts, he’s friendly with just about everyone, and he’s the kind of person people instinctively care about. Besides, if he were Hinata he most likely would have told someone about his problems by now instead of struggling with them alone. People with purely sunny personalities just go about things differently.

Kageyama wishes he could be more like that.

 

**

 

When lunch time rolls around the sharp turmoil within him has somehow dwindled into a dull poke. It feels like twenty-four hours have already passed up until this point and it’s a bit upsetting knowing the school day is only halfway done. So far this has been the longest and single most exhausting day in Kageyama’s life for sure. He absently wonders if being anxious for so long is directly bad for his blood pressure and that gives him one more thing to worry about.

To his surprise Hinata stops by to pick him up for lunch, like clockwork. His blinding smile is back in place, so are his well-timed and lighthearted insults, and he isn’t behaving any differently around him than he usually would. If Kageyama’s sudden paleness and standoffish attitude towards him this morning affected him in any way he isn’t showing it. Maybe it’s not so surprising after all; Hinata isn’t the type who lets someone’s bad mood deter him. It’s an annoying and sometimes downright reckless quality, but Kageyama genuinely admires his persistence. That persistence is the reason he’s a less sucky volleyball player now than he was in the beginning. He can also thank that very same persistence for them being friends in the first place.

Lunch turns into a small highlight of the day. It’s nice to sit in their usual sunny spot behind the gym, just the two of them. It’s something Hinata insisted they start doing and Kageyama doesn’t really mind where he sits as long as he gets to eat. Listening to Hinata talk is probably the nicest distraction of all. He doesn’t always say much in response but Hinata doesn’t care; he’s well used to his short answers. Kageyama is just glad there’s someone in his life who’s willing to do all the talking _and_ hang out with him at the same time. Even his hands are starting to feel normal, like they’re thawing or settling down, and there’s nothing wrong with his appetite either. He dares to be hesitantly hopeful. Maybe he’s not so bad off after all.

Once they’ve finished eating they walk back together. Kageyama thinks about gym class, which is next on his schedule. Moving around won’t do any harm; on the contrary it might actually do him good. They’ve mostly just been running this entire month anyway so that’s probably what they’ll continue doing. Running, especially without any sort of competition, is easy. He’s good at that. He’ll be okay.

Kageyama lingers half a step behind Hinata, who’s going on about something his sister did yesterday. He keeps his gaze locked on the back of his head and the unruly tangerine tangle that is his hair. A mild breeze is dancing past him, pulling gently at those bright and shiny locks, and his hair just looks so soft. Kageyama wonders what it would feel like having those silky strands slipping through his fingers. He imagines it would be like dipping his hands into sunlight. Rather than constantly squeezing the stress ball hidden in his pocket, maybe it would be better to touch Hinata’s hair. It really is very pretty…

“Kageyama, are you even listeni–”

Hinata abruptly stops talking when he turns around and finds Kageyama looming over him with his hand outstretched, fingers spread, aiming for his head. He lets out a high-pitched yelp and instinctively cowers, something that rouses Kageyama from his strange momentary daze long enough for him to realize what he’s actually about to do. He snatches his hand back, mortified with his own subconscious actions. Was he really so lost in his own thoughts that his body simply switched to autopilot like that? He doesn’t even have full control of his movements now?

“O-oi, what the heck?” Hinata covers the top of his head with both hands and glares accusingly at him. “If I did something to piss you off then tell me, you jerk! Don’t just creep up on me with a squeeze like that, that’s not fair!”

“I wasn’t gonna– it was nothing,” Kageyama mutters, glancing off to the side as a humiliated blush sweeps across his face. “You didn’t do anything. Forget it.”

Hinata lets his arms drop and stares suspiciously up at him, his honey brown eyes taking on an intense glow and his long lashes turning transparent in the direct sunlight.

“You’ve been acting weird today,” he states bluntly. “Even weirder than usual. Did something happen?”

“I told you it’s nothing,” Kageyama snaps, shields up in an instant.

Hinata, simply being Hinata, doesn’t buy that so easily. It’s true that he’s not exactly the bookish type but that doesn’t mean he’s completely obtuse. He crosses his arms and tilts his head, catching Kageyama’s eyes with his own and gazing steadily at him.

“You know we’re actually _friends,_ right, whether you like it or not. That means you can tell me about stuff that’s bothering you.” He hesitates. “I promise I won’t laugh or anything.”

Damnit, that’s way more than what he deserves right now. Kageyama really hates himself for being on the receiving end of that kind offer, he feels absolutely rotten to the core for it, and he also feels bad about feeling bad because what the hell? No normal person would be like this. He grits his teeth, his jaws tightening.

“I _know_ and I already told you, it’s _nothing_. I’m late for class,” he adds stiffly, pushing past Hinata for the second time that day. “See you at practice.”

 

**

 

By the time the school day is finally over, Kageyama’s hands have not only turned numb again but also stiff and cold. The timing is mildly speaking terrible. His fingers are full of a thousand needles and in vain he repeatedly clenches his fists and shakes his hands in an attempt to jumpstart his nerve endings. He wonders if he might be going crazy, that this stubborn sensation is actually all in his head.

Once he’s made it to the clubroom he dodges greetings and questions alike, at first thinking he’s doing a good job but soon realizing he’s just being incredibly rude. It does nothing but amp up his anxiety. Kageyama spent a long time last year trying to create bonds and build trust, he’s been working very hard to make sure the team doesn’t view him as someone too introverted and difficult to deal with, that he’ll remain being someone they’ll want to keep, and now he’s just tearing all that down.

But it’s not like he’s listening to himself, or to anyone else, for that matter. The world has been tuned out, only reaching him in disconnected fragments of sound. These pieces make no sense whatsoever; he can’t even identify whom the voices belong to. Kageyama’s head is filled with white noise, his brain overloaded with all the wrong things, and a constant static has burrowed itself deep into his ears. Just the thought of suffering through an hour of volleyball practice like this is enough to make his pulse race. It breaks his heart that he’s thinking about something he loves as something he has to endure.

Warming up starts out as nothing but a mechanical routine, something he has done a million times before. Relying only on muscle memory is fine to a certain extent, but unfortunately volleyball requires a good deal of thinking and strategizing as well. It doesn’t take long before he feels himself slowly slipping out of control and it becomes especially evident in the way he sets the ball for Hinata. He can’t seem to get the height or the timing or the angle right, no matter how hard he tries. The reason is simple: he can’t feel the ball. He can’t really feel anything.

Kageyama stops, looks down at the ball in his hands, only to find that he’s dropped it without even noticing. His hands are empty and numb, just like the rest of his body.

“Seems like His Highness is out of it today.”

“Kageyama, are you okay?”

“What’s the matter?”

“Oi, Kageyama!” Hinata’s voice is loud and crystal clear, sharp enough to cut through the sticky muddled noise in his head. “What’s with you today, seriously?”

Dazed, Kageyama turns around and finds the entire team staring back at him. An eternity of a moment passes by without anything happening, nobody says a word, and in that space of time his mind sort of collapses in on itself. For a short blissful second there’s absolutely nothing in it. Then it rapidly fills up with everything all at once, which is too much, and his brain zeroes out.

He promptly turns around, ignoring everyone calling his name, and staggers outside. He makes it down the steps and veers off to his right, aiming to hide behind the corner of the gym, but he doesn’t get very far before he has to stop. Kageyama leans heavily against the wall and sinks down onto the ground, hiding his face in his hands. His pulse is running a thousand miles a minute, his skin wrapped tightly in cold sweat, his mind roaring like a jet engine. He wishes he could run away but he’s numb all over, from his feet to his lips, and his chest feels tight, as if it’s shrinking in an attempt to crush his heart. Right there and then it presents itself as perfectly plausible that he might actually die.

“Kageyama…?”

Even though it’s Ennoshita’s voice he hears, it’s Hinata’s face he sees when he glances up. It seems he’s the first one to have made it outside, the first one to reach him, and now he’s crouched down in front of him. His brown eyes are wide, his eyebrows pinched, and he looks beyond worried.

“Kageyama-kun, what’s wrong…?” It’s Yachi this time, but he can still only find Hinata within his blurry field of vision. “A-are you’re going to faint? Or be sick?”

Kageyama is painfully aware of the entire team crowding around him and his body aches. He can’t take these looks of concern and sympathy and curiosity. He slowly shakes his head, afraid of making the static go louder.

“No, I’m just – I just can’t calm down right now.”

The others respond with a short stretch of silence, one that’s mostly confused but also a bit understanding. It’s like they kind of get it, somehow, like they’re aware of what his behavior actually means. For a few seconds the only sounds joining the light spring breeze are Kageyama’s shallow breaths and a few crows cawing in the distance.

“Um… I think it’d be a good idea if the rest of us leave him some space.”

That’s unmistakably Tsukishima’s voice, sweeping in as though he’s read Kageyama’s mind. The suggestion quickly gains murmurs of agreement, and soon the team breaks up and slowly disappears with shuffling footsteps. Only Ennoshita and Hinata remain. Somewhere in the chaos that rips through his body, Kageyama feels a wave of gratitude towards the middle blocker. Tsukishima, of all people. Maybe he can believe in the fact that they’re actually _friends_ who sometimes can’t stand each other, and not just teammates who sometimes can’t stand each other. The thought sits weirdly but nicely with him. He can get used to that, granted that he’s actually able to live through this mess. His heart lurches, causing his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Here – if you want something to hold on to.”

Kageyama looks up again and finds Hinata reaching out to him, offering his hand. He grabs it almost instantly, clasping it probably a bit too tightly in both of his clammy hands, but Hinata doesn’t utter a single word of discomfort. His hand is warm and his skin is soft, save for calloused fingertips and a slightly rough patch on his palm. It feels familiar.

“Kageyama?” Ennoshita tries to catch his eyes, and the fact that both he and Hinata are putting so much effort into acting calm helps a lot. It doesn’t matter whether they really feel that way or not. “Don’t forget to breathe, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

He’s still trembling but his heart is starting to slow down a bit and his lungs are no longer threatening to collapse on him. His anxiety seems to have finally reached a peak and is steadily retreating, taking that sense of numbing dread with it, and Kageyama is pretty sure this is what being a deflated volleyball feels like.

“Do you want to go to the infirmary? Or should we call your parents?”

Kageyama just shakes his head and nods in direction of the gym. “I can – I can practice –”

“No way,” Ennoshita interrupts him with a small gentle smile. “Don’t worry about that right now. Are you sure there’s no one we can call?”

“Infirmary’s fine. I just need to rest for a bit.”

“Can you take him, Hinata?”

Hinata straightens up slightly at the request, his hand quickly squeezing Kageyama’s. His eyes are still wide and worried but this time there’s also a certain steadiness behind them, a strong resolve that wasn’t there earlier. Together with the warmness of his hand it makes Hinata seem so safe, like an anchor.

He nods firmly. “Count on me.” He turns to Kageyama, and the afternoon sun turns his hair into a halo and his eyes into gold. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

 

**

 

A couple of hours later Kageyama wakes up in the infirmary, groggy and confused. His head hurts and his body feels heavy and limp, like he’s been playing five extremely intense volleyball sets – and even then he’s never been this exhausted. His shirt clings uncomfortably to his clammy skin and his mouth is dry, but at least that overwhelming numbness in his body is gone.

The room is filled with late afternoon shadows and the slowly vanishing sun leaks in through the window, painting boxy silhouettes on the bare walls. Looks like the day is about to end, taking the remains of the school day with it, and volleyball practice is probably long since over by now… That realization prods Kageyama’s brain into full alertness and he scrambles to sit up.

“Whoa, calm down!”

Startled, he whips his head around and finds Hinata sitting right next to him, looking both alarmed and annoyed.

“P-practice –” he croaks, gesticulating aimlessly into the air.

“You’re not going to practice, you idiot! It’s over now anyway.” Hinata reaches out and shoves a bottle of water into his hands. It’s ice cold and dewy against Kageyama’s palms. “Drink all of that,” he commands.

“What’re you doing here?” Kageyama mutters. He struggles a little with the bottle cap but is pleased to discover he has regained enough strength in his hands to twist it off.

“Waiting for you to wake up, obviously.”

“You dumbass. You should’ve been practicing instead of staying here!”

Hinata stares at him, speechless for a second, before his face breaks into a wide grin that pretty much lights up the entire room.

“What are you smiling for?”

“You called me ‘dumbass’!” he beams, and Kageyama has never seen anyone so happy about being insulted before. “That’s something your normal self would say so welcome back, I guess! Oh, and I _did_ go to practice! I only rushed back here once we finished cleaning up.”

“Oh.” Kageyama has no idea why that information is making him feel weirdly happy all of a sudden but it does. He shrugs and takes another sip of water. “Okay, then. Good.”

Hinata falls quiet, his smile slowly fading on his lips, and for a little while he’s only watching as Kageyama drinks. Once the bottle is empty he makes an attempt at throwing it into the nearest bin but it’s a little too far and his aim is unsteady. It ends up bouncing off of the edge before rolling away with a faint clatter.

“What happened earlier… that was really scary,” Hinata says, his soft voice loud in the otherwise unoccupied room. “I’ve never seen you like that. You were so pale and trembling all over and – and you were crying. You looked so small and frightened,” he adds, his voice dropping into a whisper.

It feels kind of surreal having his panic attack described to him like that, by an outsider. Kageyama reaches up, absently pressing his fingertips against his cheek. He doesn’t even remember crying. He cringes thinking about the team seeing him cry on top of everything; it’s humiliating enough that he had to break down in front of them. A tiny part of him wants to tell Hinata off for saying something that sounds so exaggerated and dramatic, but nothing about Hinata’s expression suggests that he feels embarrassed or amused on his behalf. He’s just sitting on the very edge of his chair, looking worried.

“It’s probably not my place to say anything,” Hinata continues unsurely, “and I’m sorry if it’s annoying, but… you don’t have to deal with everything alone. I know you’re stubborn and like to do things by yourself but sometimes it’s good to share the burden. Maybe it won’t help much, or maybe it will – either way I’d be happy to at least listen.”

“Yeah… Um, thanks?” Kageyama looks away, not really sure what to say. Apart from his mother, he’s never actually told anyone about this before. “I’ll… I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Seriously, Kageyama, I mean it!”

He looks up at the abrupt change in Hinata’s voice, which nearly borders on desperate. He leans forward and grabs his wrist, the look in his eyes so intense that Kageyama almost jerks back.

“The way you were earlier… I hate that! I don’t want you to feel that way! I really like you a lot, you know, and it hurts seeing you like that. I didn’t know what to do.”

Kageyama stares at him. For some reason that just sounds so… weird. That’s for sure not something Hinata would usually say, like ever. He takes a moment to process, feeling a bit stupid for having to retrace his words, but slowly his stare turns into a bewildered frown.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘I really like you a lot’…?”

The heavy silence in the room is only interrupted by the steady tick-tock from the clock on the wall. A few cheers and shouts can be heard in the distance, the last few stragglers finally leaving their club activities for the day.

Hinata’s eyes widen in sudden realization and slight horror, and he releases Kageyama’s wrist, blushing wildly. He quickly hides his face in his hands and groans.

“I mean I _like_ you. As in I think about you a lot and I want to be with you all the time and I want you to be happy always and I’d do anything to make you smile.” The words come rushing out of him, muffled behind his palms, and the tips of his ears turn an even more incandescent red. “ _That_ kind of like.”

“Huh…?”

Hinata lets his arms drop and glares at him, annoyed. “I’m in love with you, stupid!”

Kageyama feels numb again but this is different from before, way different. Last year he was confessed to a couple of times, right after they made it to nationals (so that probably had something to do with it), but that didn’t feel anything like this, not even close. That was just bothersome. That didn’t give him chills, or a racing heart, or a blushing face. That didn’t leave his skin buzzing as though an electric current just shot right through him. He’s freaking out again but it feels so different this time. It almost feels _good_ , except in a really excruciating way.

“I – I had no idea,” he eventually manages.

“Seriously? None at all?” Hinata sighs and slumps against the chair, looking a little defeated. “Aw, man. I guess my teasing and all those lunch dates weren’t obvious enough, huh…”

“How could anybody tell from just _that_ , dumbass?” Kageyama snaps. “And you always tease me, how am I supposed to know the difference?”

Hinata rolls his eyes impatiently and determinately leaves all hesitation behind. He reaches out and grabs Kageyama firmly by the shoulders, pulls him closer, and clumsily kisses him smack on the mouth. Their noses almost collide, Kageyama can feel Hinata’s hair tickle his skin, and it all really seems more like a statement than a romantic gesture, but when Hinata draws back he looks both terrified and hopeful. Stunned, Kageyama flicks the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, which feels warmer now than before, and he can taste a hint of peaches.

“You could tell the difference now, right?” Hinata smiles nervously, his cheeks blooming with a healthy rosy red. “I like you, Kageyama.”

It’s like the world got flipped on its head, except it doesn’t feel as awful as one would expect. Kageyama still isn’t quite sure what’s happening. He looks at Hinata’s eager face and takes a deep breath, his heart fluttering furiously at the thought of accepting these brave and straightforward feelings. He wants to, actually, because this is really nice and fresh and he’d like to explore more of it. But Hinata saw with his own eyes what happened today. So how can he still sit there and say something that serious and important?

“Um…” Kageyama awkwardly rubs his neck and looks away. “This thing… it’s something I might not ever get properly rid of. It won’t go away after you talk about it, or just because you say you hate it – that’s not how it works. So… if it’s troublesome for me then it’s gonna be troublesome for you, too.”

Hinata gazes thoughtfully at him for a moment and Kageyama silently prays he’s not about to change his mind, even though he would understand it if he did.

“I know that,” Hinata finally says. “But I’m kinda thinking about this in volleyball-terms. Sometimes a one-touch is enough to change the direction of everything.”

Those words together are possibly the simplest but at the same time the deepest explanation Kageyama has been given. It’s maybe also the nicest thing anyone has ever said to him, even nicer than all the volleyball praise he’s received in his life so far, and that’s saying something. It doesn’t feel like everything’s going to solve itself and fall into place right this minute, but they definitely could, some time in the future. And he’ll have Hinata by his side. There’s safety in that.

One touch… It makes a lot of sense.

Kageyama looks up and then nods, slowly but trusting, and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Writes Kagehina from Hinata’s PoV: Kageyama is so handsome and talented, angels sing when he appears, flowers grow under his feet, all the oceans part for him, etc.  
> Writes Kagehina from Kageyama’s PoV: damn Kageyama back at it again with the CRIPPLING ANXIETY
> 
> Well, this just ended up as a fic starring Kageyama with Issues™, didn’t it? Wtf man. I’m sorry.
> 
> I know I make him go through ~stuff (and I tend to shove my own issues onto him) but Kageyama is for sure one of my favorite characters of all time. He is the most precious and special child. Truly a Son. 10/10 would take a bullet. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed (to the extent this topic can actually be found enjoyable)!
> 
> Feel free to talk to me on twitter [@tsun_derei](https://twitter.com/tsun_derei)!


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